The Theology of Conversation
by Britomartis
Summary: "Love is not affectionate feeling, but a steady wish for the loved person's ultimate good as far as it can be obtained"- C.S. Lewis. Reverend Isabella Swan has a visitor looking for answers. Edward/Bella One Shot. Christian Themes.


**One shot E/B , a little sad. Quote is from C. 'A Magicians Nephew' Wonderful book.**

**Contains Christian Themes. You have been warned.**

Bella POV

I could always hear them before they entered the chapel. From the vestry, the sound of footsteps on the stone floor was deafening.

Still, it gave me time to pray, for strength, for whatever words I might need to say.

I had been ordained only 6 months ago but, in that time I had heard more of suffering than, I could have ever contemplated in my three years at theological college.

I loved my work, was blessed to do it, but the hospital chaplaincy was the hardest thing I had ever done.

_Thank goodness I did not have to do it on my own._

After a moments prayer, I stood and headed for the door. A cursory glance to the mirror confirmed that I was presentable, workable black trousers, a light green and the dog collar that declared my vocation. My brown hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, strands escaping at the sides.

I still got a kick out of seeing the shock on the faces of elderly Anglicans when they realised that I, Reverend Isabella Swan, 26, was distributing communion.

I ignored the flash of pride as best I could.

This visitor, I doubted, was here for a service. It was the time of day I always dreaded. For, I could always be certain that Saturday's, the main visiting time would bring a stream of lovers, family members and friends who couldn't bear to see their loved ones dying.

Opening the door I stepped out into the chapel. The rush of cold air hit me straight away. No amount of heating or letters to the diocese could seem to fix it. Old buildings…

I saw the man sitting at the back of the chapel glance up at the noise. He was devastatingly handsome. I had found in the past that noting these things early on made it easier to ignore them. This technique had always worked before.

Unfortunately in this case I was unsure if it would be effective. He had the most piecing green eyes and tousled bronze hair. I had never seen anything like it. It made me want to run my fingers through it.

_Jesus, help me to see beyond and help him despite my weaknesses._

A sense of calmness rushed over me, clarity. I smiled softly at the man.

"I am sorry, I did not mean to disturb you."

"No, no," He replied hurriedly, "It is fine."

His eyes lingered on the white strip at my collar. He frowned. Inwardly I groaned.

"Are you the chaplain?"

I nodded, praying fervently that I would not be enticed into a doctrinal discussion of the Ordination of women. The man merely nodded, distracted. He stood abruptly.

"Right, well, that is ok with me, I mean I don't really care. I should go…"

His awkwardness made him seem younger, though I guessed he must be around my age.

"Don't leave on my account." I replied. "I just wanted to check if you needed anything."

"I don't know why I came here…I liked chapel at school…it was calming…I don't believe in anything…not that I think you are stupid…"

He looked at me warily. I smiled quietly to myself, he was so very nervous. I imagined it was the dog collar. Wearing it could intimidate the staunchest of atheists.

"Well, I am happy if you feel calmer here. It is peaceful."

"Yes…well…I should go…"

I nodded, hiding my disappointment. The man turned and headed towards the door. Suddenly, a few steps away from the exit he stood and turned back to me.

"You know, I wish this God stuff was all real.?"

"Why?"

"Because then I could believe that there was a reason my fiancé got hit by a car,the day before our wedding. God might even like me enough to save her."

The anger on his face was tinged with such despair that it made me want to weep.

"God doesn't love you less because you don't love him."

The man frowned. I continued,

"I don't understand why such horrible things happen in the world. But I still love God."

"You realise that makes no sense?"

"To me it makes the most sense, I love him and I trust him. Doing that ,when I don't understand what is happening around me means that, even when I am so wracked with pain that I can hardly see, I know he is with me."

I glanced up at him. He was watching me intently.

"That doesn't stop because I forget him. He doesn't forget me. Trusting him means that I submit myself to his timing and know that he understands more than I do."

"Even if it results in your fiancé lying on a hospital bed in a coma?"

"That has never happened to me, but I pray that if it did I would."

He smiled bitterly to himself. I continued, filling the quiet of the chapel.

"You seem very angry at a God you don't believe in."

"Perhaps, Reverend that was a lie. Maybe I just don't want to believe in a God that would do this." He spat out.

"What about a God who understands and even feels what you feel?."

I walked over to the bookshelf to the side of the altar and picked out a well worn book. Turning back to him I noticed that he had moved closer. I held up the cover to him.

"Magician's Nephew- Always a classic."

Flicking to the back of the book I found the passage I wanted.

"But please, please - won't you - can't you give me something that will cure Mother?" Up till then he had been looking at the Lion's great feet and the huge claws on them; now, in his despair, he looked up at its face. What he saw surprised him as much as anything in his whole life. For the tawny face was bent down near his own and (wonder of wonders) great shining tears stood in the Lion's eyes. They were such big, bright tears compared with Digory's own that for a moment he felt as if the Lion must really be sorrier about his Mother than he was himself."

I glanced up at the man. He wasn't even looking at me anymore. This had gone badly.

"I know it's a story but I always though Lewis hit the nail on the head. It's a bit complicated if you don't know the book."

"I'm an English teacher."

His voice seemed choked.

A silence descended over us. It seemed long, though it could have been more than five minutes.

_I prayed for him._

Eventually he seemed to come to himself again. He glanced down at his watch.

"I need to go, I told her Mother I'd only leave Tanya ten minutes."

I nodded.

"Of course, go to her."

He looked up at me, an unreadable expression on his face. My heart thumped loudly once, before resuming its pace.

"Thank you for talking to me…"

"Bella." I supplied. He stepped forward and held out his hand.

"Edward pleased to meet you."

The touch of his hand electrified me. It was over within seconds. He half bowed, half nodded to me and, without looking up, turned and headed out of the door.

I never saw him again.

I cannot be certain what happened to him after that point. A local paper, eight months later, mentioned the marriage of an Edward Cullen to a Tanya Denali but whether that was my Edward I am not sure.

If so, I wish him well.

Sometime we meet people, for a few moments, seconds even who change our lives.

I had met that man before Edward.

He was with me when I left the chaplaincy and moved into a parish of my own. I still love him so.

Though, sometimes, on quiet nights, when I am tucked up alone in my bed, reflecting on the day, a pair of green eyes creep into my mind, looking for answers.

_I pray he is happy._

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